Lucky 7
by TheVampireLucinda
Summary: Seven one-shots of people getting lucky. Slash and other warnings! Stories currently include: Shawn Michaels and the Undertaker; Triple H, Charlotte, and Finn Balor; Road Dogg Jesse James and Bad Ass Billy Gunn; Kane and X-Pac!
1. Burning Love

**Title** : Lucky Seven

 **Characters** : Various! Includes Shawn Michaels, Triple H, the Undertaker, Kane, and other WWE and NXT Superstars!

 **Disclaimer** : Most, if not all of these, will be slash. Rated M! It was T, but Shawn and 'Taker messed me up, LOL.

 **Summary** : May your hundredth kiss be as sweet as your first. A series of 7 one shots revolving around wrestlers kissing each other.

 _A/N: This will probably sounds weird, but I have a few random, kiss-y one-shots in my head that won't go away. Not enough for a full story, but maybe enough for a one shot? Anyway, I MIGHT take a few requests, so feel free to make suggestions. If you make my Muses happy, I can maybe write a one-shot for the pairing! Just nota bene, I write slash best, haha...Anyway. Onto the story!_

* * *

 **May, 1999: Burning Love**

"I hate to admit it, but the Darkness suits you."

That's really all it took.

For his part, the Undertaker was partially proud of himself, but partially ashamed at how easily he had given in.

Since "going Dark," as some had called it, and becoming the Lord of Darkness, he had gained a new found sense of confidence, as well as a whole set of desires that had previously been so distant from him.

Above all things, the Undertaker wanted power, and he was willing to hurt anyone and everyone to get it. He was determined to take over the World Wrestling Federation, and after that...well, the world was his playground, wasn't it?

Second to that desire, however, was a deep, aching need for his body to be satisfied.

For the first several months, the Lord of Darkness was able to satiate himself with copious amounts of alcohol and inflicting pain on others. And the darker his soul became, the more it—and his body—wanted.

Paul Bearer had asked him what, exactly, was wrong, when he caught him brooding and pacing in his locker room after the match. Everyone else had already left, and the Undertaker was still struggling to come down from the high of successfully terrorizing the entire roster, including his smart ass little brother.

He felt so damn _good_ ; and he didn't have any way to express it. So, when Paul walked in, he merely waved him off, giving the startled older man a glare for good measure to make sure that he didn't come back.

"Fuck," 'Taker muttered, leaning so that his back and head rested against the cool lockers. It felt like his skin was burning. He closed his eyes. From the inside out, a fire had been kindled in him, and he vaguely wondered how much of this was the growing Shadow, and how much was his own formerly-repressed desires rising to the fore.

He didn't hear the door open. He didn't see the golden-brown haired man who irreverently entered.

"I hate to admit it, but the Darkness suits you."

The Undertaker startled, staring wide-eyed at Shawn Michaels, who was standing at the door with his signature sideways grin.

And for the first time since he'd met the man, the Lord of Darkness understood the fire that burned in the Heartbreak Kid's blue eyes.

"I may be the Commissioner now," Shawn continued, ominously locking the door. "But what I wouldn't give for a chance to get in the ring with you again."

The Undertaker pushed off from the lockers, slowly stalking over to the fearless, smaller man.

"The ring?" he asked, voice rough with unmet need, mouth curved in a lazy smile. "I'm right here, Michaels."

To accentuate his point, the Undertaker pulled out his hair tie, letting the long, black locks fall over his shoulders and down his back, while several strands fell in front of his face and obscured his eyes. He remembered all of the comments Shawn had made in the past about his hair, and figured that it had been a subtle indication of attraction.

He had figured right. Michaels was on him in an instant, surprisingly strong for his size, forcing the Undertaker to slam back up against the lockers, lips locked on his.

And Shawn, unsurprisingly, was a master mechanic, as one hand went high to tangle in the long hair, and the other low to grip the Deadman's quickly-hardening cock.

The Undertaker moaned loudly, his own hands groping blindly at Shawn's perfect body, pulling the smaller man closer, and closer against him. The Commissioner was coaxing his legs apart; and the moment he spread them the slightest bit, Shawn's grip tightened and all but enclosed the base of his aching manhood.

The Lord of Darkness could feel himself quickly losing control, and when Shawn's lips found the side of his neck, pleasure raced like fire along his veins, and he gave a loud, open-mouthed moan.

"Slut," Shawn whispered, grinning wickedly and squeezing once more, kissing him roughly.

"Takes one to know one," was the Deadman's quick reply, and with a grunt switched their positions so that Shawn was now up against the wall, pinned by his smaller wrists. Their lips met again in a bruising kiss, both of them fighting for dominance, both left gasping for breath when they at last pulled apart.

The Undertaker, not wanting to be outdone completely, began to lick a long trail from the back of Shawn's ear, to his neck, and then to his partially exposed chest. Even as he tasted Shawn's skin, as he savored the blend of sweat and arousal, the Undertaker's reasonable side wondered if he was really going to go all the way with this man.

It frightened him how a not-so-small part of his psyche wanted to get fucked hard on the locker room bench like a whore.

The Commissioner, for his part, was more than pleased with the way things were turning out, and the hesitant look in the Undertaker's eyes was turning him on even more. "I like this change of attitude too," he remarked casually beginning to undue his belt buckle. "But, you know, the Heartbreak Kid still doesn't lay down for anybody. Not even the Lord of Darkness."

Pulling his wrists free, he reached back and gripped the Undertaker's ass hard, drawing another sweet moan from that even sweeter mouth.

"You've never been fucked by a guy yet, have you?" Shawn asked, raising an eyebrow.

'Taker shook his head, face flushing red. "And I don't plan on it, Michaels. I don't lay down either." It was half-true, the Undertaker reasoned, deciding that he had to save _some_ face.

"You don't have to lay down at all," Shawn countered, eyes glowing dangerously. "I'll fuck your tight ass standing up, Deadman."

The Undertaker inhaled deeply, and took a step back. He was painfully hard, and wondered vaguely how they ended up debating who would be on top. It made more sense for Shawn to be the one leading things, as he had all the experience...but 'Taker was loathe to be a passive partner.

Besides, if someone walked in on them...

"Well, what should we do, Michaels?" he asked, folding his tattooed arms.

Shawn looked down at the Undertaker's dick, still straining against his tights. "Shall we do rock-paper-scissors?"

"You're kidding."

"Not at all...What, are you scared to lose?"

Shawn held out his arm, grinning like a madman. And the Undertaker, with a long sigh, did as well.

"Rock...Paper...Scissors...Shoot!"

* * *

 _Those two...my OTP, hahaha._

 _Next one shot will most likely be unrelated...most likely..._

 _Review? Let me know what you think! :)_


	2. King, Queen, Prince

_A/N: I still refuse to call it a Divas Championship, or whatever...F that. Also, my HunterMuse is bisexual...he just happens to be in a mostly-committed relationship with Shawn Michaels...Mostly. :P Also, I am in love with Charlotte, haha._

* * *

 **January, 2016**

Triple H walked to the backstage area with no small amount of swagger in his step after his Royal Rumble win. With the title proudly displayed on his shoulder, he smiled arrogantly at all who dared to make eye-contact with him, staring them down with his madman's grin.

The Game knew that they hated him; knew that they _feared_ him. Some of them probably even wanted him gone...permanently.

But none of that mattered. What mattered, whether it was hatred or fear, was that they bowed before their King.

And in that matter, not a single one of them had a choice.

Or so Hunter was thinking as he walked down the long hallway alone. He missed the days when he would be greeted by his friends, all of them laughing together and mocking their defeated foes. Especially Shawn. Shawn had the best laugh that Hunter had ever heard. To this day, no one could fill the void that was left in his heart with the Heartbreak Kid being retired.

With a sigh, he touched the strap that rested on his shoulders once more. It would be great to have someone by his side during all of this—well, besides Vince and Steph. They were both powerful allies, but there was nothing like have a true companion by your side.

"Hey Hunter. Congrats."

Triple H looked up slowly, surprised to see Charlotte standing in front of him, the Women's Title displayed proudly on her shoulder—his mirror image, in many ways.

 _Well, minus being female and looking damn good in purple ring gear._

Immediately, his heart swelled with pride as he hugged one of his most beloved students warmly. Deep down, the Game was a teacher, as well as a champion; and nothing pleased him more than to see that someone had taken his lessons to heart. He hadn't really had a chance to develop that relationship with anyone until taking over NXT (besides with Evolution) and making it into the one of the hottest things in professional wrestling today.

And Charlotte was one of his number one pupils.

He smiled down at her, and she up at him.

"Champion and champion at last, huh?" she said with a laugh, clicking their titles together proudly. "The King and Queen are on top once again!"

Hunter raised an eyebrow. "Queen?"

Charlotte's eyes twinkled in a way that the Game couldn't resist. "Hell yeah, Hunter. I mean, everyone knows you're the King of Kings." She patted the title on her own shoulder fondly. "And before long, they'll all know that I'm the Queen of Queens, and that everyone needs to just shut up and bow down."

The Women's Champion knelt dramatically, as though she were a Medieval knight. "Give me your blessing, King." She winked, and Hunter felt his heart flutter a little.

'Damn, those blue eyes,' he thought, shaking his head, and pretending to hold a broadsword.

"I knight thee, Sir Charlotte...Wait, fuck, how do you knight a woman?"

The Women's championship laughed, standing and putting her hands on her hips. "Shame on you for not knowing...Although, I don't really either..."

Charlotte never felt the need to hide the fact that she loved and admired Hunter Hearst Helmsley. He was much more than her teacher; he was someone who truly believed in her, and wanted her to succeed.

Besides all that, he had a "thing" with about 50% of the roster over the years, and though he'd been pretty conservative lately, she figured that it was about time for the Game to play once again.

After all, he was pretty hot for an older guy.

"Knightress? Lady? Knighta?" Hunter was still guessing what a female knight would be called when Charlotte placed a hand on his shoulder.

"It's okay, I think Knight works just fine. I mean, I'm skipping to 'Queen' anyway, so...'

Triple H smirked and shook his head. "I don't know, Charlotte, being the Queen ain't going to be easy...You might have to kick even your best friend's ass a few times..." He pretend to think, and then opened his mouth wide in mock surprise.

"Wait, you've already done that, haven't you?!"

The two champions shared a wicked laugh, reveling together in their success. There was a mutual respect that they shared for one another's strength and ruthlessness.

"Look, I gotta go catch a flight," Charlotte said after a moment, punching her mentor lightly in the arm. "And I know you do, too. Being on top means doing all the work, right?"

Hunter nodded his approval at the innuendo. "Indeed it does..." He took Charlotte's hand, bowed, and kissed the back of it gently.

"Goodnight, my Lady," he said with a smile.

However, to his surprise, the Women's champion leaned down as well and kissed him firmly and fully on the lips.

A pleasant surprise indeed.

"Damn, did your old man give you pointers on how to get to me?!" he asked, feeling more than a little warmth spreading through his face.

Charlotte threw back her long blond hair and laughed. "I'm just good at everything," she proclaimed, turning to leave. "See you tomorrow, Hunter!"

Though he knew that it wouldn't do him any favors to get involved with yet another member of the roster, Triple H couldn't help but consider the possibilities as he watched his student walk away.

 _Especially_ as he watched her walk away.

* * *

The next night, Triple H was walking through the performance center, looking over the progress of the newer wrestlers, while sitting down to chat with the veterans. Everyone congratulated him, and Hunter appreciated the depth of love the NXT roster had for him.

In the WWE, he was a despised king. But in NXT, an exalted God.

Still, one person was noticeably absent from the group—the current NXT champion Finn Balor.

Hunter felt a little hurt; he had expected Finn to be one of the first to congratulate him. He was another one who Hunter considered a student and friend, much like Charlotte.

Of course, while Charlotte kept things ambiguous, Finn was an open book, often proclaiming his love for the man known as the King of Kings. To this day, Triple H didn't quite understand it, but accepted the praise and affection nonetheless.

Which is why he wasn't entirely surprised when he suddenly found himself catching a 190-pound Irishman who had jumped into his arms without warning.

"Congratulations, Champ!" Finn Balor exclaimed, locking his legs around Hunter's waist, and his arms around the Game's neck. "You kicked so much ass out there!"

Triple H smiled. "Thanks, Kid. You know, I-"

Before he could even finish, Balor placed a sloppy, wet kiss on his lips, going so far as to delve his tongue into Hunter's mouth.

It lasted for several seconds, and when Finn at last pulled away, they were both breathless.

"What the hell was I saying before?" Hunter asked, slightly dazed.

Finn grinned wickedly. Though he played a pretty nice guy on TV, deep down, he was a natural heel, just like Triple H. It's one of the things he admired most about his mentor and good friend. Though he knew that Hunter was juggling several relationships at the moment, the NXT champion wasn't at all afraid to add himself to the mix, confident that he could hold his own in the Game's heart.

"You were saying..." Balor began, pretending to think, blue eyes glittering. "That you wanted to 'work out' with me today, since we're both champions now, and we should have a proper celebration."

Hunter raised an eyebrow. "Do you mean 'work out' as in 'work out,' or 'work out' as in...' _work out_?'"

Finn Balor stared blankly at Triple H for a moment before laughing heartily. "Whichever one means sex!"

The Game had to laugh at that one, and obligingly carried the NXT champion into one of the side rooms, away from the main part of the gym, but still located in the performance center. Both men began to disrobe as fast as their hands could remove fabric.

"It's like back in the day," Hunter mused, being careful not to ruin the buttons on yet another suit jacket. Shawn and 'Taker had obliterated the last one a few months ago...

"Hmm?" Finn, who was wearing very little to start, was already as naked as his name day.

"Grabbing a quickie in the locker room...in the gym...in the airports...before a match...in Vince's office..."

Balor laughed again. "I can just imagine you and Shawn going at it...and then Mr. McMahon walking in and losing his shit!"

"It's happened more than once..."

Hunter picked Finn up again, and laid the younger man on his back on one of the trainer's tables. His body covered the smaller man's easily, and he ran his hands up and down powerful thighs.

Changing his mind in an instant, Hunter flipped Finn onto his stomach, admiring the small but full ass that was presented to him.

Unbidden, Charlotte came to his mind again, and he determined that the two of them should have a "championship celebration" as well sometime in the near future.

However, Finn was getting impatient, and started to roll back over. "Hunter, you're taking too-"

The new WWE champion placed a hand on the small of Balor's back, holding him in place before letting a hand slide down and ghost across the man's perfect ass.

"Shhh...I'm thinking..." A slow smile spread across his face, and shiver went down Balor's spine as the Game licked at the base of his neck.

"The King, the Queen, and the Prince," Hunter mused aloud. "Kinda fucked up, but it works."

"What?"

"Nothing." The Game scratched his chin. "You know, don't take this the wrong way, but you remind me a lot of Shawn sometimes..."

Balor laughed heartily, rolling over so that he now lay on his back, and looked up at his mentor with a wink.

"I'm honored," he chuckled in his sexy accent. "Now, are we gonna sit here and talk, or do you want to play?"

Triple H rolled his eyes. Shawn made that joke constantly, and now he had to deal with another one? In the back of his mind, he wondered if he had a "type," or if he was just attracted to people who knew have to make him laugh and piss him off at the same time.

Shawn, Charlotte, Seth, Finn...How in the world was he going to handle all of those smart-asses in his life?

'Fuck it, I'm the Champ,' he concluded, pushing his worries to the side and pulling Finn Balor's legs around his waist once more. He kissed the younger man heartily, tongue invading his hot mouth, before following the a trail down his neck, to his muscular abdomen, and beyond.

'I'll improvise.'

* * *

 _Oh Hunter...tsk tsk._

 _Review? :)_


	3. The L Word

**November, 1998: The L Word**

Bad Ass Billy Gunn stood as still as he could, admiring his own physique in the full-length mirror. He flexed his pectoral muscles carefully, nodding at their shape underneath his skin. Though he hadn't wrestled or worked out in a few weeks, he was pleased to see that his body maintained its cut and firmness.

"Perfection!" Road Dogg proclaimed loudly as he entered their shared locker room, taking Billy by the waist and turning him around so that his back was to the mirror, and they themselves were face-to-face.

"Although...those shorts could be a bit shorter," he remarked, pulling the ring trunks up just a bit more, so that the bottom third of Billy's butt cheeks peeked out. "There we go."

Gunn threw his head back and laughed, craning his neck so that he could look at his reflection.

"You're an idiot," he chuckled affectionately, pulling out of Jesse James' embrace, and turning so that the other man now stood in front of the mirror.

"And what about you?" he asked, locking his arms around his friend's middle. "When are you going to update your ring gear to something more appropriate for your charms?"

Road Dogg rolled his eyes, this time sliding out of Gunn's embrace. " _Please_. Your name is 'Mr. Ass,' so we have to show them your ass. I, on the other hand, can't come out on TV with the name 'Mr. Cock.' The ladies and gentlemen of the WWF wouldn't be able to handle it."

"You're ridiculous."

"I know."

"Aaannnnddd, I'm pretty sure my dick is bigger than yours."

"Fuck you."

The New Age Outlaws shared a smile, winking at their reflections in the mirror before resuming their preparations.

They had a match coming up later tonight, and fooling around beforehand wasn't going to do them any favors. Post-match shenanigans were guaranteed, of course, but they vowed never to take care of business beforehand after that near-loss a few weeks ago.

Apparently, having multiple orgasms before a wrestling match was a bad thing.

Still, as he changed into his ring gear, Road Dogg couldn't help but stare at Billy. The man really was perfect: physically, without question, and everyone could see that; but his heart and soul were perfect too, and only Jesse knew that part of him. He couldn't get enough of the man, and, so far, it had been the most satisfying relationship he'd ever had in his life...in many ways.

"Stop staring at me!" Billy Gunn laughed, walking over to Road Dogg and shaking him by the shoulders. "If you want something, just tell me." He smiled suggestively. "I mean, I can think of a few things that we could do before we face the Headbangers...things that rhyme with truck. Or duck. Or luck..."

Jesse James shook his head and smiled. "Buddy, I don't want much...I just got two words for you." He took a step back, grabbed both of Billy's hands, and intertwined their fingers. Gunn looked at him with a quizzical expression.

"Kiss me."

Mr. Ass was really confused now. "Wait, what? Seriously?" He laughed incredulously. "Just kiss you?"

Road Dogg pouted, tilting his head to the side. "Not _just_ kiss me, but _really_ kiss me. Kiss me like you really mean it."

There was a short pause, and Jesse James figured that he might as well get it all out now.

"I'm sorry, man, but I'm breaking the rules and falling in love with you."

"For real?" Gunn asked, beautiful eyes wide, looking down at their clasped hands. "Seriously?"

"For real. I mean, it can all go to shit at any moment, I know. But right now, I just feel like-"

Before he could even finish, Billy Gunn had pressed his lips against Road Dogg's, ending the conversation positively and definitively.

"I love you too," Billy breathed, before pressing their lips together once more. "Fuck it, I wouldn't mind spending the rest of my life with you, if you want."

Road Dogg felt his heart catch in his throat, but he forced himself to swallow it back down.

"That sounds good," he answered with a smile, leaning into a kiss once more, loving the feeling of Billy's strong body pressed against his own.

It was all way too mushy for him, but if he held his breath, he swore he could feel their hearts beating in sync.

"Alright, enough of this," Jesse James pronounced, taking a step back and holding up his hands. "Why don't we stop playing around, and you get to 'powerbombing' me or something."

Billy Gunn laughed once more. "God damn, I'm so happy that I get to use the big 'L' word with you now!" He clasped his hands together comically, batting his eyelashes as he stood on one leg.

"I love fucking you silly, Jesse James," he intoned in a high pitched voice that made Road Dogg fall over with his own cackling laughter. "I also love _being_ fucked silly by you. I love that you're my tag team partner...inside, and outside of the ring."

Jesse James smiled sheepishly, remembering fondly that, while he'd been the one to initiate the relationship, Billy Gunn has been the one to keep them together. The man had his back like no one else had in his life.

"But most of all," the older man finished, barely able to continue through his grin, "I love you, Jesse James."

"Whatever," Road Dogg laughed, although he was smiling just as much. "I love you too, Mr. Bad Ass Billy Gunn.

"Now get over here, and let's kick this thing doggie style!"

* * *

 _I love me some New Age Outlaws!_

 _Review?_


	4. Slut

_A/N: Ummm, KaneMuse...I wanted this to be PG-13. Not NC-17._

 _Kane: Heh, I'll show you NC-17..._

* * *

 **May, 1999: Slut**

Kane stumbled into the dark, abandoned boiler room, his older brother's voice still ringing in his ears.

He had heard some strange, breathy sounds coming from one of the locker rooms, followed by what sounded like someone in deep pain.

The Big Red Machine opened the door to investigate, and was forever scarred in that moment by the image of Commissioner Michaels, trying to push his brother down on the floor, doggy-style.

Shawn had the Undertaker by the hair, Kane noticed first. The second thing he noticed was that they were still clothed for some reason.

And the third thing he noticed was that his big brother wasn't exactly resisting, either.

Shawn had just positioned himself behind the bigger man, biting his lower lip, and breathing heavily, when Kane accidentally gasped audibly.

While his brother looked like he would die of embarrassment on the spot, Shawn jumped to his feet and tried to explain it all away as "just practicing."

At that, the Big Red Machine had run from the room, 'Taker yelling for him to wait all the while.

Kane wasn't all that surprised when the Deadman slowly opened the door, entering the boiler room several minutes later, still blushing as furiously as Kane had ever seen, his long hair shielding his face. His movements screamed embarrassment, and the Big Red Machine couldn't keep from smiling behind his mask.

"Kane..." he began, voice rough from what could only have been unfulfilled arousal, lips still wet from what could only have been a very passionate kiss. "What you saw..."

The man known widely in the WWF as a demon held up his hands and shook his head.

"I'm not here to judge you," he said softly, startling his brother by speaking. They had been on bad terms recently, and Kane hadn't said a single word to his sibling in months. "You're a bastard for many reasons; but wanting to have sex is not one of them. Especially with someone you've wanted for so long. "

The Undertaker was stunned; partially grateful, and partially disturbed, by how kind his little brother was being. Well... "kind" by Kane's standards.

But he was going to count himself lucky this time, and simply nodded, accepting the slight scolding.

"...Thank you. Uh...don't tell anyone. I'm going to bed. It's too dangerous here. Actually, a cold shower sounds better. Goodnight."

Kane smiled at that—and although his face was still covered by the mask, he knew that his brother could see it in his eyes.

As the Undertaker saw himself out, however, Kane had a moment to sit and reflect on what had just occurred.

'Goddamn, my brother is hot,' he mused.

It wasn't that he hadn't thought so before; in fact, he had the same thought the first time he saw the fully grown up version of his big brother. It was why Kane took so much pleasure in fighting the older man. He was hot as hell, from his eyes, to his voice, to the curve and cut of his body.

Of course, the Big Red Machine has also quickly realized that the Undertaker wasn't the type to be into incest...but, a guy could hope, right?

Kane sighed aloud. Thinking about his brother always got him hot and bothered—and seeing him in such a position a few minutes ago really got his imagination going. The disheveled hair, the flushed face, the slightly-erratic breathing...

If he didn't let off some steam soon, Kane feared that he could do something he'd later come to regret.

Still, there wasn't any harm in letting his mind wander, right?

 _The Commissioner of the WWF held the Lord of Darkness down effectively, one hand on the back of the larger man's neck, and the other tightly gripping his squirming hips._

 _"It's gonna hurt a little at first," Shawn was saying, voice a low growl as the Undertaker moaned at the contact of his ass with the Heartbreak Kid's cock. "But it's nothing you can't handle."_

 _"Just do it," the Deadman growled, gritting his teeth against the pain he knew was coming._

 _And come it did, as Shawn Michaels positioned himself at the Undertaker's twitching opening, and entered his body none too gently._

 _'Taker arched his back and keened, bracing his hands against the floor as his ass was filled completely by Shawn's length._

 _"So good, Red," the Commissioner was muttering, mostly incoherent at this point. "Better than I even dreamed..."_

 _He grabbed a handful of hair, forcing the Undertaker to arch his back even more, driving himself in even deeper. 'Taker's green eyes were shut tight, mouth opened in the shape of an O, body becoming over-run with pleasurable (and painful) sensations. He knew, academically, what a prostate was and how it functioned; only now, practically, did he truly understand its use._

 _"Shawn...I can't...Please..."_

 _The Heartbreak Kid started up a steady rhythm, drawing out pained sighs from the Lord of Darkness._

 _"You look like a complete slut," he teased, now using both hands to hold the Undertaker's hips as he thrust into the larger man again and again, more and more fiercely, loving the way 'Taker's tight hole clamped so desperately onto his cock._

 _"It suits you."_

Kane opened his eyes. He could hear footsteps just outside his door. Someone was coming...and he had a hard-on that anyone could see from a mile away.

Before he could hide his unfortunate state, X-Pac entered the room, dark eyes growing wide almost instantly as the locked onto the source of Kane's embarrassment.

"Goddamn!" he whistled, fascination overcoming his better sense. "Shit, Kane, you're hung like a horse! What the hell's got you so riled up?"

The Big Red Machine was stunned, and didn't really reply. He couldn't believe that someone, especially a member of DX, was speaking to him so casually. The small man wasn't even the slightest bit afraid as he approached, eyes locked hungrily on his manhood, which was still straining against his spandex.

"Shit, I can take care of that for you, if you want," X-Pac offered. "And, if not, just tell me what's got you so hot. I want some of that too!"

Under his mask, Kane was blushing like crazy; and when he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper.

"I was thinking about my brother...and Shawn..."

Pac nodded sagely. "Yeah...those two can get anybody all worked up." He winked at the Big Red Machine lasciviously. "So...want some help with that?"

* * *

 _Naughty, naughty boys..._

 _Review?_


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